


Of Sand and Stone

by Redbirdblackdog



Series: The Heart of the Dragon [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Not for Dany fans, Secret Identity, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbirdblackdog/pseuds/Redbirdblackdog
Summary: Prequel to DracarysShe'd been paraded south to Kings Landing with pomp and glitter, with a promise to be a princess, then queen to a Stag. Then she was bound to the Imp in marriage, her bond to the West unconsummated and annulled. She was smuggled in secret Northeast to the Vale. Littlefinger bribed and plotted until an up-jumped squire and heir to a sickly boy agreed to be her husband. He's dead too.Now… now she was shipped southeast to Griffin's Roost, sold to the highest bidder. Told to make nice to a usurper or is he the rightful heir? Who knows? Married to a dragon… what could be more cruel?
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia), Young Griff/Alayne Stone
Series: The Heart of the Dragon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208957
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Of Sand and Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Alayne Stone gasps as Harry Hardyng falls from his horse, her hopes are crushed as quickly as his life. She is vulnerable again, when Harry declared his love and endorsed the betrothal… she was safe. But now what is she? 

_A pawn. A voice long silent whispers from deep inside. A piece to be played._

She blinks back the tears, not for Harry… not truly. He was suitable, malleable, he would've made a fine husband. Well maybe… acceptable enough. 

But never love. 

No never love. 

But love is not for her, not for bastards. 

Then he was there, Littlefinger. She smelled the mint before she even heard his voice.

"Father," she whispers. "It seems as though my betrothed has been taken by the Stranger." 

"A shame," he speaks the words but the sharpness of his eyes betray him. He has a plan. "Sometimes the pieces move out of turn. Old alliances abandoned and alternative plans to be fortified." 

"You have a plan?" 

"Of course I do," he answers smugly. 

…

The deal was set, again her maidenhead would go to the highest bidder. She let out a dark laugh… would this man die too? 

_She'd been paraded south to Kings Landing with pomp and glitter, with a promise to be a princess, then queen to a Stag. Then she was bound to the Imp in marriage, her bond to the West unconsummated and annulled. She was smuggled in secret Northeast to the Vale. Littlefinger bribed and plotted until an up-jumped squire and heir to a sickly boy agreed to be her husband. He's dead too._

_Now… now she is shipped southeast to Griffin's Roost, sold to the highest bidder. Told to make nice to a usurper or is he the rightful heir? Who knows? Married to a dragon… what could be more cruel?_

_She met another though who stole her heart. Some outriders joined their party as they traveled south. One of the men is young and dashing. She didn't mean for it to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it happened all the same._

One night sitting with him by the fire she can't help but confide in him. “Apparently I'm supposed to seduce the Dragon” she whispers. 

"The Dragon? I thought all the dragons were dead," Young Griff jokes. 

She leans in, "no hush… few people know. Aegon Targaryen survived and was smuggled out of the keep before Kings Landing was sacked." 

"You don't really believe that," he scoffs. 

She shrugs, "why not? Pretender or true born, who even knows anyone any longer. It’s all the same.” 

“But a dragon?” He laughs. 

“They say he has silver hair and purple eyes… just like his father. Like the dragons of old." 

He scrunches his face at that, "and you believe it? Lysenne whores look the same and not a drop of dragon in them." 

"Rude," she shakes her head. “Whores are people too.” 

“Are they now?” He taunts. "So is that what you want… a dragon… a conqueror?" 

She drops her eyes and shakes her head, "no. I don't want it at all." 

He looks back at her confused. 

She thinks to school her words, mind her tongue. She's already said too much. She's tired of lies though, he'll understand, he's a bastard too. She leans in closer and lowers her voice. "Men in power." She takes a deep breath, "they can be selfish, ruthless even cruel when it suits them. When it pleases them. Who can stop a King?" 

She shakes her head and smiles at him. She leans closer to whisper, "maybe it'd be better if he was an imposter. A boy raised by a loving mother, a man who didn't like to hurt others. A man who's known hunger and hardship… and fear." 

"But alas… I am just a pawn for someone to play." She looks up into his eyes… such a strange shade of blue, dark nearly black. Like the midnight sky. He always looks at her softly… gently, she would love some softness in her life. She shakes her head, silly dreams,. Life's not a song. 

"He could be kind… right? Good" He offers with a smile. "I for one would never hurt you," he offers softly.

"Fire and Blood," she says without inflection. "And here I thought _Winter is Coming_ was ominous." 

"That's a strange house to quote, the Starks." He looks at her with question. 

"It… the King in the North… it was said… oh I don't know. These families and their games." 

"Maybe he favors his mother? Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken." He offers. 

"You say that and all I hear is _stubborn_." She can't help but laugh. "Never knew a Dornish man to back down.” 

“What if we ran away. Away from the game,” he reaches out to stroke her cheek gently. "I'm a Sand, you're a Stone." 

“I can’t,” she answers, but leans into his touch. "I wish I could, but I can't." 

“My Lady Alaynne,” he offers. 

“I’m no Lady,” she brings up her hand to hold his against her cheek. She turns to it and presses a kiss to his palm. 

“You could be _my_ Lady,” he drawls. “I’m set to join this Dragon’s Kings guard, but I owe him nothing. I owe none of these people anything, not at your expense. We could leave, run… how much time would they waste for two bastards?” 

"My father would find me and drag me back," she answers in a whisper. "We'd never be safe. Never." 

He stands and pulls her into him. He's so warm and strong. She lets her fingers grip his tunic pulling him closer. He smells of amber and oranges, he's everything she imagines a true summer to be. She lets him hold her, she lets her future disappear and just lives this moment in his arms. 

He hums and kisses her temple. She looks up to him as his hands card through her hair. 

"Alaynne," he whispers. 

She tips her head to look in his eyes. Once, twice, three times their lips touch and each one she longs to never stop. He purrs and she smiles, they continue each kiss longer, firmer, wetter than the last. Her mouth follows his and as the kiss deepens she feels consumed by fire… and she loves it. 

"Run away with me," he begs. "Leave this all behind." 

"I can't… my duty." 

"What is your duty to a man you've never met? A father who sells you to the highest bidder?" Griff argues. "What is duty compared to love?"

"Bitter," she whispers back. 

"Then let us make it sweet," he pleads. He cups her face and kisses her again, he touches something deep in her soul. As he holds her tight the world feels right, and just, and true. 

She gathers her strength and breaks the kiss. Pulling herself from his arms. "This can't be… people will suffer." 

He captures her hand and kisses her fingertips. "But if you go, you will suffer." 

"It's my penance, my curse to bear. I was never meant to be happy," she answers as a tear falls. 

"But you are. You and I could be happy," he answers. "I swear it." 

"Life is not a song," she quietly answers, turning away from him. "Goodbye." 

He reaches desperately for her hand, as their fingers touch… she doesn't want to let go. She has a duty, the choice is not hers. She drags herself away and she didn't realize she had any heart left to break. 

… 

It doesn't last though. They still find each other. Drawn together no matter how much they try to resist it. Kisses and touches, so much more than she's ever imagined. One evening just a day from Griffin's Roost lost in the moment and the moonlight she begs him to take her. Begs him to damn the consequences and make her his. They whisper their vows with the stars the only witness and consummate their love under a new moon. As she basks in her pleasure still wrapped warm in his arms… "I love you. I wish it could be different, I do." 

_Then they run. Two days later they find a Sept to marry for true. The moment before they wed, she trusts him and tells the truth._

"My love I'm sorry… I owe you the truth," she offers. "I've told so many lies." 

"Then give me the truth," he answers. He cups her face with hands, "I can bear it." 

"I… I am not who I said,'' she says. "I am not Littlefinger's daughter." 

"It matters not who your father is," he replies smiling. He meets her lips in a kiss. "Your past is over and our future begins." 

"It's not that easy," she whispers. "I am Sansa Stark…" 

"The Princess of the North," he gasps. 

She nods, "it doesn't matter, because I love you." 

"Sansa Stark," he repeats absently. His eyes search her face as his fingers trail through her hair. He looks lost. 

"I didn't kill the King, I swear." 

He seems to snap out of the trance with that. "This changes everything." 

"It doesn't have to," she pleads as another tear falls. Her hands finding hold on his jerkin. 

"But it does… my love," he answers stroking the tears free of her face. "I am not a Sand." 

Her eyes snap up to his, searching his face. "I don't understand." 

"My mother was Elia Martell," he admits. His eyes soften and he smiles. "I am Aegon Targaryen." 

"The Dragon," she breathes out. 

"No, not a dragon," he replies. "A man, a man in love." 

"But you…" she starts. "I was supposed to…" 

"Seduce me," he teases. 

"Well… yes," she stutters out. 

He smiles softly and kisses her gently. "You succeeded my love. You seduced me without even trying." I got lost in your eyes. Your clever heart drew me in." 

"But you ran, you ran away from everything," she questions. "You had everything and you walked away." 

"For you," he answers. "You were a bastard, they'd never let us be together. Without you I don't want any of it." 

"What now?" She whispers. 

"Let's get married," he answers with a kiss. 

"You still want me?" 

"You and no other," he answers. 

_They marry as Aegon Targaryen and Sansa Stark. They spend two nights alone in the Inn before reality finds them again. It's Jon, Jon Connington to retrieve his ward._

"I already know what you've done," Jon booms. He throws some coins at Sansa's feet and hisses, "for your troubles." 

He turns to Aegon, his glare heavy, "lets go." 

"No," Aegon answers. "I have chosen my wife. I have chosen love." 

"Love?" Jon scoffs. "Do you remember what _love_ got your father? What that _love_ did to your mother?" 

"I will never forget," Aegon answers. 

"But what of Daenerys? What of the wedding of dragons?" Jon interjects. 

"That was your plan, not mine," Aegon argues. "I will not marry my aunt, I will not encourage the madness it will reap." 

Then Jon glares at her pointing an angry finger, "you. You do know this will never last. You wed yourself a King, but all you will reap is death. This girl is not fit. He will discard you like trash," he spits. 

Aegon steps forward, letting his hand settle on her waist. "Jon you don't understand." 

"We can explain," she continues. 

"You dare to speak to me?" Jon growls. 

"Yes," she answers. She locks eyes with him and lifts her chin. 

"Littlefinger's bastard," Jon scoffs. "You think they will not tear you apart in court? You'll see, bastards never last long. Stay here, save yourself some trouble." 

"Jon-" Aegon starts. 

"No," Jon interrupts. "I worked hard for this, for the love I bore your father… I sacrificed. I will not let a bastard ruin it. Anull it, let the bastard be your whore. I don't care. Take a wife though, take a queen. If not the dragon I'll find you a mate." 

Aegon laughs. His voice drops cold and low, "no. Sansa Stark is my wife until the day I die." 

Jon looks at her then, finally seeing her. She washed out the dye and her hair shines bright. 

"A Stark?" Jon mumbles. "They're all dead." 

"I'm very much alive," Sansa answers. 

Jon turns to Aegon. "After what Lyanna Stark did to your mother. How dare you." 

"My father is who betrayed my mother," Aegon answers. "Rhaegar was always perfect in your eyes, not mine. I am under no illusions of who hurt my mother and who failed to protect her." 

"Aegon…" Jon pleads. 

"I have chosen a suitable wife," he lifts her hand and kisses it gently. "She has accepted me as her husband. You can accept it or leave." 

"I never…" Jon back-pedals, trying to explain. 

"Jon," Aegon says catching his attention. 

Jon looks back lost, like his world is falling apart. 

"Jon, may we start again," Aegon offers calmly. "I am pleased to introduce to Sansa formerly of House Stark, my wife. She will be my queen." 

**Author's Note:**

> You may wonder why Griff/Aegon didn't just tell her who he was. If he came out he may never truly know her feelings, also he knew a bastard would never be accepted as Queen. At least that's my angle.  
> Thanks for reading.


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